Arapgir: Songs

The Arapgir region was rich in song and dance. While the town of Arapgir was known for its trades and commerce, it also had a vibrant cultural life. Armenian residents of the town were an energetic lot who never turned down an opportunity to make merry, to sing and dance.

Holidays and rituals

Folk song and dance were an inseparable part of various rituals. Religious holidays were accompanied by music and, of course, singing and dancing. These holidays included KiudKhach, Asdvadzahaidnoutyunan/Mgrdoutyoun, Amanor, and the pagan-era Deruntarach (locally called Derudas) and Paregentan, that starts prior to Great Lent (Medz Bahk). Traditional instruments (kamancha, saz and tambourine, etc) provided the music. The dance song Tamzara was a favorite for celebrating Paregentan. It was a line dance with the head dancer waving a white handkerchief. Everyone would join in. [1]

Someone pretty standing in the doorway,Also having fastened a belt on her narrow waist.She makes gestures with her eyes and eyebrows-come inside,The image of that pretty one is worth a thousand gold pieces. [4]

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I go up to the balcony, it’s cold-I freeze,Her loved one comes, I follow,Let the Lord not take my soul, let me die and be consumed. [5](Song recited by Pakhdigian and transcribed in New York, 1935)

There were numerous other unique traditions besides the holidays. One of them was Mama Chttig. It was a ritual during which people sang to God asking for rain after a long drought.

Armenian family from Arapgir; Identity unknown (Sources: National Archives of Armenia, Yerevan, courtesy of Dirk Roodzant)

Folksong

Regarding the music and song of Arapgir natives, I must confess that only a few songs have reached us. Only the poetic portions of many songs have survived. Given that folksongs are an oral art form, many examples have naturally been lost. When it comes to preserving the folksongs, history, ethnography and aspects of daily life of the region, the following Arapgir natives have contributed much – Antranig Poladian, Avedis Mesouments and Sarkis Pakhdigian. In Poladian’s History of Armenian Arapgir, original folk and bard songs written down and reworked by Avedis Mesouments appear. Here are a few of them.

And when you come from the bath, let me love your sweet, sweet fragrance.

A happy and energetic dance song. When the words are done, a new melody kicks in imparting a lively rhythm. It is possibly the merit of the Arapgir musicians. [12]

Arapgir, the Armenian church neighborhood, after 1907. The huge building with the white stones in the middle of the photo is St. Asdvadzadzin church (Sources: National Archives of Armenia, Yerevan, courtesy of Dirk Roodzant)

Ouni – Ouni [13]

Pears have ripened in the gardenCover them; it’s coldThe father-in-law with the [unclear] headHas seen your kissing

This amusing song has its own history. It is said that one day, in the Almasegan bath, fire, and smoke flew out of the furnace towards the bathers and the women, without wasting time, ran out in terror. Here’s one verse regarding that episode.

The Almasegan bathThe secret of the bosom,One is looking for a shirt,Another for the underwear. [14]

Aghchig na nay [15]

Snow has fallen on the mountains na, nayThe field is mistyDear [unclear] na, nayThe situation is badThe grapes have also ripened na, nayWorms are insideTo married girls na, nayHer name is orphan

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This song is only known in its poetic form:

Mayram has put up a tentOrman mountains,She grazes a flock to one sideOne side lambs.And we, fine girlHave come to you,With a thousand flirtationsTo take you.Don’t cry fine girl,Be our bride,Yakhout (precious stone),Be a precious emerald to us,Not sold, not changedBecome our richness,Be a fertile and radiant faced dear to us.Girl, we have brought youA comb made from the tooth of an elephant,Your gold pleated hairIs braided preciously,You are a moonlit face,Your words sweet,Whether you want to or notYou will dance fine.They also take a girlWeeping and crying,They also braid the hairWith golden threadThey also cover the headWith a nightingale’s shawlThey also adorn the fingersWith Indian henna

It’s a very endearing, melancholic song associated with wedding rituals. But it’s also a love song and a song of the émigré experience. [16]

Mani [17]

This is a very emotional émigré song. The love song of the unlucky émigré is brilliantly expressed in the lyrics and music.

The caravan comes, what silk fabrics does it carry?Mother, mother,There are many seas and mountains between us.Come home, come home, my boy, come homeMother, mother,This world is worthless. We are destined to die.

A nightingale has come and perched on a rose,Mother, Mother,Alight is burning in the middle of your two eyebrowsI loved with much love; I didn’t reach my longing,Mother, Mother,Send a drop of water to extinguish my fire.

I’ll go to the garden all [unclear] has ripened,Mother, Mother,Roses have opened, the rehan has blossomed.The man has seen the eyes of the dear.Mother, Mother,Hand in hand, he/she has serenely come.

The Arzoumanian family, Ancherti village (present-day Topkapı) in the Arapgir region, 1907. Standing from left to right are: Shnorhig, Varvare (the grandmother, seated), Arousyag (on the grandmother's lap), Arpig (standing between the grandmother and the grandfather), Boghos (the grandfather), Sdepan (sitting on grandfather's lap), Trfanda (standing). Seated on the floor, from left to right are: Martha, Markar, Garabed and Boghos (Sources: National Archives of Armenia, Yerevan, courtesy of Dirk Roodzant)

Mihran Toumajan, a student of Gomidas, also transcribed the folksongs of Arapgir. Toumajan was a master at uncovering and writing down folksongs, a skill he inherited from his teacher. He transcribed the songs directly from Arapgir natives – H. Djavayian, Hovhannes Mamasian, Mrs. Mamasian, and Diran Zorebanian.Toumajan lived in the United States as of 1923. Many Armenians from Arapgir also found refuge there after 1915. The songs transcribed from Arapgir native singers were the songs and dance songs displaying the traditional mores and mannerisms of western Armenians. They are diverse in content, their melodic structure is interesting, and the emotional range extensive. Given their genres and poetic themes, we can say that the songs are varied. They are wedding songs, songs for rituals, and songs of love, especially the manis (oriental folk song), dance songs, laments and songs of exile.

We know that in ancient times weddings were celebrated with great pomp and circumstance. People then were traditionalists. In their view, an Armenian girl must be modest, tidy, obedient, a good housekeeper, and respectful of her seniors. In terms of appearance she must have a round face, red and white, a narrow nose, open forehead, black hair long and thick, a smallmouth, a long neck, an ample bosom, thick hands and tiny feet. [18]

Weddings in Arapgir were ceremonial in nature, and were always accompanied by music, song and dance. Before the wedding ceremony, the boy’s family would visit the prospective bride’s home (aghchigdes), followed by khos gab (verbal promise) and nshantrek (engagement). [19] Wedding preparations started eight days before the event. The girl would be painted with henna. On Saturday, she would be taken to the bath house. [20] At midday, they would come to braid her hair. All would participate. The godmother would start to braid the girl’s hair with golden thread and sing. [21]

Aghjign al goudanin [22]

We are also taking a girl, anam,In health and glory.They are also braiding her hair, anam,With golden threads.They are covering her head, anam,With a nightingale’s shawl.(This song, recited by Hovhannes Mamasian, was transcribed in Boston, 1936)

When braiding hair they also sang:

A pretty one goes, anam, to the threshing floor,Her shape is thin, chinar (plane tree), anam,Girl nanana.(This song, recited by Pakhdigian, was transcribed in New York, 1935) [23]

An example of a wedding song is “They play a saz at our door”. It was danced in groups and individually; in turns. In gatherings of women, the bride would dance to this song surrounded by unmarried girls. During mixed gatherings (men and women), the bride and groom would be invited to dance. The dance was noteworthy for the modesty and embarrassment it portrayed of an Armenian girl. It can be regarded as one of the best examples of an Armenian feminine dance. [24]

Group photo, Arapgir. Armenian musicians and participants of the festivity in the town vicinity (Source: Antranik L. Poladian, History Of Armenians of Arapkir [in Armenian], New York, 1969)

Mer touruh gzarnen saz (They play a saz at our door) [25]

They play a saz at our door,They play a saz at our door.Let the sisters-in-law braid the hair,Let the sisters-in-law bear her coyness

Our door resembles a yard,The fringes resemble a crown.The bastard came and went,Know that he resembles a beg (agha)(Recited by Hovhannes Mamasian, this song was transcribed in Boston, 1936)

Presented below are examples of songs and dance tunes whose melodies as well as sometiems lyrics represent instances of city life. These songs are accessible to all segments of society; Armenians, Turks, the rich and the poor.

An Aghchigan (For the girl)

Galoshes for the girl,Boots for her mother,A pair of open-faced shoes for the fatherHe could do without a monkey too [26].

(second version)

Put a pair of galoshes on that girl,Boots on her mother,A pair of open faced shoes for father,He could do without a monkey too [27](Recited by Mrs. Mamasian and transcribed in Boston, 1936)

An babigan (For the father)

(third version)

Chnkoush shoes for the father,I won’t care any more / I won’t attend anything else [28].(Recited by Diran Chorebanian Mamasian and transcribed in Boston, 1936)

Photo taken close to Arapgir (it is also possible that the photo was taken in the vicinity of Garin/Erzurum). The photographer is George/Kevork Djerdjian from Arapgir (Source: George Djerdjian photo collection)

Shehrin paghchan tour ounee (Shehir’s garden has a door)

Shehir’s garden has a door,It also has fine water inside,The plums haven’t taken,They have a fine skinHave, have, have, have,They have a fine skin.(Recited by Hobvhannes Mamasian and transcribed in Boston, 1936) [32]

Baghcha Ounim, Bar Chounim (Got a Garden, Don’t Have Fruit)

Got a garden, don’t have fruit,Got quinces, don’t have pomegranates,I’ve ended up in a foreign land;Got no way out.(Recited by Hobvhannes Mamasian and transcribed in Boston, 1936) [34]

The theme of emigration has always been present in the songs of emigrants from Arapgir. Due to economic hardships and a harsh local taxation system, emigration from Arapgir was widespread and this theme naturally found it’s way into their songs.

Across fron Agn is a rocky mountain,To yearn is to indure, to count it to die.(Recited by Hobvhannes Mamasian and transcribed in Boston, 1936) [35]

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The magpie calls, God willing it is a good omen, Get up mother, get up and say a prayer, The other’s son arrives, where is yours?(Recited by Pakhdigian and transcribed in New York, 1935) [36]

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It is snowing on the mountains, the fields are misty,Jinxed is the one who separates the bird from its mother.(Recited by Pakhdigian and transcribed in New York, 1935) [37]

The Bosphorus (the sea of Istanbul) is wavy, The breeze of love blows sweetly, If God grants me the fortune, I’d go to her, Get my wish and fall into the sea.(Recited by Pakhdigian and transcribed in New York, 1935) [38]**********************************

A photo from Arapgir. Photo by George/Kevork Djerdjian (Source: George Djerdjian photo collection)

The verse transcribed by Toumajan “Your Handkerchief is Dirty” is a tragic story [40]. An interesting fact, the songs recited in Arapgir, Agn and Chmshgadzak are often very similar, they practically sang the same songs with slight differences and each attributed these songs to be their own. These places were not so far from one another and it is natural that there is often confusion about the origins of some song though they are often contributed to Agn [41]. The following is a vivid example taken from the Alakeozlou folk song treasury.

Agn version:

Your cloths are dirty, Send them for me to wash.I’ll put them on my wet eyes, Lay down and sleep. (Gomidas) [42]

Arapgir version:

Your handkerchief is dirty, send it for me to wash.I’ll put it on my wet eyes, lay down and sleep.(M. Toumadjan) [43]

Aman Telo

Shoghor djan

Aravodoun pari louys (Good morning at daybreak)

Sareri Vrov gnats (Left over the mountains)

Arapgir. Two sisters, from left to right – Khosrovitoukhd and Shoushanig (Source: Ter-Mikayelyan family collection, Yerevan)

Troubadour Culture

Troubadour culture had a special place in Arapgir. Troubarour songs are a considerable part of the humble collection of songs that have reached us. Love was one of the central themes that inspired the troubadours and is one of the main subjects of their songs, though we also come across songs, which discuss social and other matters. The troubadours thought of themselves as common folk and their songs often addressed different social circles with moral lessons, advice on worldly matters; teaching them to differentiate between good and evil. Troubadours also had a mission to praise aesthetics, admiring that which was beautiful, good and true. Philosophical reflections, judgments and conclusions on life were also a part of their creations which often included humor, sarcasm etc.

In Arapgir, troubadours mainly sang in Turkish, a mixture of Turkish and Armenian, in Kurdish etc. The names of some Troubadours have reached us like Khridar, Tourapdar, Sel Sefil, Der Margos … who unfortunately are not mentioned in Armenian publications about Troubadours. It needs to be mentioned that very few troubadour songs have survived in writing. There are songs that reached us orally through time and it is only natural that different people recited them differently, subjecting them to change over time.

Arapgir, St. Asdvadzadzin Church: Photo taken after 1907 (Sources: National Archives of Armenia, Yerevan, courtesy of Dirk Roodzant)

Troubadour Khridar

Chronologically, Khridar (or Khrigdar) is the oldest mentioned troubadour from Arapgir. He is assumed to have been born between the years 1720-1730. Khridar is a pseudonym. His real name was Hovhannes Yerzngatsian. Khridar likely means someone who wears old shoes, because in that area, khrig or khrrig meant old shoe or footgear. Troubadours being wanderers, there is the opinion that shoes must have been the most warned item of their clothing. This pseudonym can also be explained in reference to the Persian word Khiriydar meaning skilled, experience, accomplished. It is possible that the “i” and the “y” have been compressed resulting in the word Khridar [45].

It is told that one evening Khridar invites a Turkish friend to his house. Amid the festivities, the Turkish guest kisses Khridar’s drunken wife. Khridar angrily picks up his saz and this is what he sings [46].

I saw, she took my mind, the brave among the princes, Are you the soul of my soul, you beauty, Have mercy. When love has mercy the soul delights, How I would burn, that’s my soul’s pain, The heart weeps, those sweet lips of yours, Your honey sweet lips, your amber teeth, The beauty spot on your face, it’s a fault to kiss, Your body slender, royal purple attire.Your bosom a rose, a ripe orchard, The huntsmen await, they expect from there, The smell is of quince and pomegranate.

Let me commit my crime among the pomegranate trees,Let me be your servant, my lover with henna on her hands,A letter to my lover does you harm. Come my love, give me your word Don’t, don’t deny your love, Tell me the remedy, I’ll stake my head, I’ll stake my head, make the pain vanish, She’ll get drunk on wine I’m afraid, You gave a kiss to the stranger, I saw it then and there, How can it be in the house, Your servant Khridar, Laments and moans, Gone are pride and shame, My sight blunted, I’ll beg for forgiveness. [47]

After finishing this song, Khridar slams his saz to the ground and leaves his house and his wife that same evening [48]. With a broken heart, disappointed, and crushed, with a heavy heart the troubadour sings “İsyanlıdan kerem, kerem” (Isyanlı or as called Yessenatsioutoun in Armenian, was a religious school of redemption that Khridar was a follower of).

İsyanlıdan kerem, kerem [49]

Grace, grace to the Yessenatsi, I will not get attached to the world, Other than you trustworthy, Not a confidant is left.

Don’t give your secret to your friend, He too has a friend, There will come a day when, He too will confide (in his friend).

But in this world, there is one, trustworthy, dedicated being to whom he can rely his pain and sadness [50]. That is Khridar’s mother, he addresses her through his song “ My mother, I have a plea”. The following is the first stanza, which is half in Turkish, half Armenian [51].

In the beginning the Lord created

The song “In the beginning the Lord created” (Ibtidaa sdeghdzets Dere) [56] is noteworthy, where Khridar refers to a Biblical theme.

In the beginning the Lord created Adam and Eve, Warned them not to eat, Eve did not follow God’s commandment, Suffered for six centuries.

She suffered and rounded six thousand years, Again they took a page from the devil’s book, The light shone through, Adam and Eve that year, No rust was left in their hearts.

The Lord saved them from the rust, Rejoiced Adam, Eve our mother, Upon the word, father Abraham, Fasted for forty days.

Fasting and keeping lent is good for a person,To enter God’s divan barefaced, St. Garabed grant a wish to Khridar, Pour, give, let me drink from your hand.

Arapgir, the Armenian church neighborhood, after 1907. The huge building with the white stones to the left of the photo is St. Asdvadzadzin church (Sources: National Archives of Armenia, Yerevan, courtesy of Dirk Roodzant)

Troubadour Tourapdar/Tyurabdar

The other troubadour is Tourapdar. He was born around the 1750s in Arapgir. His name means earthly, earthen. In Arabic, Tourab mean soil, dust and Dar means house, residence. His real name was Arakel Mamigonents, which is later distorted and becomes Mangigian. Tourapdar was the father of a large family; he had seven children [57]. Many interesting stories about him have reached us, like the following: It is said that when Khridar hears of Tourapdar’s name and fame, he invites Tourapdar to compete with him. They climb up the courtyard of the Oulou mosque (djami), inside the walls of the fortress, take a seat under the plane tree and compete with one another for seven days and seven nights. The competition ends with Tourapdar’s victory [58]. Khridar dubs him a troubadour and gives him his saz [59].

The following is a segment of that historical duel (the original is in Turkish):

Who is this comer

KhridarNimble hearing, strong champion, The beauty with masterful hands is the comer, With heavy dues and sweet words, A hundred thousand horsemen is this comer.

TyurapdarThere is a mark on my tongue; my pain is twice one, Day and night, mourning and lament is this comer, Burns with love, not every water will extinguish, A heart full of fire is the comer.

TyurapdarBeg God for a cure, Find your own luck, don’t look to the cheat,I fell into this crater of love and fire, A slave to pain is the comer.

KhridarCypress trunk with a phantom, green emerald, Royal train, a purple shawl, Face with twin beauty spots, honeysweet lips, He himself sweet, the language of love is the comer.

TyurapdarDoes not take body form from soil, or sleep from his eyes, Does the one who knows books never lie? The books don’t tell of shame, Unlearned of foul answers is the comer.

KhridarDon’t be mad dear, my liver is gurgled, I have earthly words and a saz in my hand, With a word or two paying respect, Khridar from Arapgir is the comer.

TyurapdarNot an orchard or rose garden, Laying in the ground, chest in upheaval, Has love crazed sorrow, his soul suspended,Child son Tyurapdar is the comer. [60]

As we see, both are excellent masters who create and perform their own work. Khridar’s songs are more earthly in context while Tourapdar was more of a moralist, spiritualist Troubadour. Fairness, respect and honor were Tourapdar’s main precept. The following is his message to men.

Spiritual, beautiful, rich, wise, You worked day and night;You built a house so kind, Respect my words, Relay them to one anotherLove your parents.

We are stuck at the end of the world [61]

“We are stuck at the end of the world” (Ahrı zemana kalmışız…). This song is too is a call for justice where Tourapdar makes moral judgments about the world.

We are stuck at the end of the world, oh princes, gentlemen,Mercy has perished from the world, there is no justice, I’m full of pain and grief, my eyes cry blood, Not a single law abiding officer is left.

Princes do not implement the words of the Lord, Fraudulently they abuse all of humanity, Without a bribe they will not move their pen to benefit justice, There is not an honest, civil policeman left.

The corrupt policeman lives as a slave to his passion, Wants there to always be food and drinks and entertainment, Has no mercy for the poor and does not look left and right, There is no clean craft, a fair earning for the tradesmen any more.

The farmer sows nothing grows, the son does not obey his father, The wife does not listen to her husband’s word; this is why times are worst.Tourapdar’s words, daughters who learned from their mother, At seven years old they prey on men, this is why times are worst.

A photo from Arapgir. Photo by George/Kevork Djerdjian (Source: George Djerdjian photo collection)

Tourapdar was much loved by both Armenians and the Turks. It is said that when he played, people would forget about the church and the mosque. It is known that he has been exiled to Ourfa but it is not clear how long he stayed there and when he returned [62].

Once, at the marketplace, the Muslims were making fun of Tourapdar. Tourapdar would often make rough and daring remarks about the Muslim religion and for this reason he was beaten and was almost went to trial a couple of times. Urban legend has it that things got to the point that he had to go to Istanbul and stand before the Sheikh Al-Islam and the Sultan. Other than being brave and daring Tourapdar was also resourceful, had a sharp mind, was an adept poet, was a master of wordplay techniques and thanks to this, he was almost always able to talk and perform himself out of similar trouble [63].

One day Tourapdar was going around with his saz hanging on his shoulder, a judge insults him with a smirk by calling the saz a devil. In retaliation, Tourapdar takes down his beloved instrument and starts to sing a song announcing beforehand [64] “I’m not speaking now, I’m only translating…”

The song is called “Tut Ağaçtandır Teknesi” [65] (This box is mulberry wood)

This box is mulberry wood

This box is mulberry wood,The keyboard is of intestine,A pastime for the brave and the migrantWhere is the devil in this?

The bar is a pear tree,The strings come from France,You God’s stupid servant,Where is the devil in this?

When I pray, does not tell me not to,When I wash, does not object,Is more honest than a judge,Where is the devil in this?

The name is troubadour Tyurapdar,Tragedy has reached the Maker’s heavens,You big headed ass of a judge,Where is the devil in this?

The stories about Tourapdar are many. All of them are interesting and unique and all testify to the troubadour’s strange personality and singular character. It is told that, foreseeing his own death; the troubadour organizes his own funeral. People reprimand him for it but Tourapdar stubbornly walks to the graveyard where a religious ceremony takes place and before it is the turn of the burial he says his last words [66].

Hear my words [67]

Hear my words, princes and sirs,In this earth my heart wore out and went,Bearing sorrow and pain and crying blood,My body and essence wore out and went.

Word has reached this earthly being from the city /cemetery/,The soul is not salvaged from the bitterness of life,From man’s enmity, fate’s conquest,Alas, my tender life wore out and went.

Luck is a watermill, people grains,It crushes all, leaves out not one,When people, those searching, ask “where is he?”,Tell them, Tyurapdar was here but then he went.

It is not known if Tourapdar was actually buried that day or not [68].

Rose water, beloved, your hair

Tourapdar also has love songs so typical of troubadours. “Rose water, beloved, your hair” [69] where he praises his beloved is a confession of love. Only the Armenian translation of this song is known to us.

The blush on your face took my wits away, Dried the sleep from my eyes, Light up the house of my heart,My darling, coyly, coyly.

The sea is Tyurapdar’s priest, Your love became my wind, Wonders around, falls from place to place, Winnow, coyly, coyly.

Troubadour Shevkia

There is very little information about Troubadour Shevkia. It is said that he went to Persia to make some money. In a café one day, a rival troubadour addressing Shevkia sings;

Go around Iran if you want to be an emigrant, go around Turan, Instead of being wealthy in exile, Go around as a beggar in a wealthy world.

Shocked by the sudden discovery of his identity, Troubadour Shevkia picks up his saz and immediately returns to his homeland [70].

Bloyents Surma

In the 1850-s a troubadour named Bloyents Surma also lived and created in Arapgir. It is known that Bloyents Surma was not educated but was well acquainted with church hymns and prayers and has translated some of them into a common speaking language to make them accessible for a wider audience. According to S. Pakhdigian, Surma was a red haired woman, a bread baker by profession, a critique and someone who lived an active social life [71]. Bloyents Surma describes her inner world as such;

(in Turkish)

Veremli Bloların Sırma dertlidir, Derdimi arz edersem ferman olur.

(translation)

Tuberculosis stricken Surma’s Blo is suffering,If I spoke about my pain, it would be a firman.

A piece that has reached us from Surma is a critique of the subsidy handed out to people following the 1895-96 anti Armenian massacres.

Regarding the same 1895 massacres, Bloyents Surma also has a verse addressed to the Kurds:

(translation)The Kurds have stolen our properties,They’ve destroyed our land, devastated it.Enjoy them while they last, grapes suppress hunger,May wasps cover you allWe were saved, we wish the same to you.

In his interpretation of this song, Avedis Mesouments writes, “It was a prediction or a prophecy or it was a curse that came true (…) the Kurds too had the same fate, they too drank from the cup of massacre, slaughter and displacement to the last drop”.

Other Troubadours

The following and segments by troubadour Sel-Sefil and troubadour Faouzi.

Powerless, Incurable [73] (Troubadour Sel-Sefil)

(the original in Turkish)Powerless, incurable, wallowing in pain,Isolated, gone are we from the world,We drank down the full cup like it was poison,Wicked words repulse us from life.

My tongue can not utter, it’s unsayable, unknowable,My pain, anguish, my heart is deep, it does not show,Full of pus it suffers, does not wipe out,Need a surgeon to cut it open on one side.

A wounded heart is incurable,I searched for a balsam, that I never found,There is not a person who could save this Sel-Sefil,But may be there still is cure for my wound.

Brothers, Listen Up … (Troubadour Faouzi) [74]

Brothers, listen up, I’ll tell you one thing, Going to the church and crying is needed, Night and day the good and the bad are by a thousand, Paying tax, giving alms is needed.

At every hour ask the Mother Mother of God, Luminous beams she bent into an arch, She brought to light her only son, Spilled red blood, crying is needed.

God created man in his image, He put us out of heaven, we had no ideaCame and effaced hell, we have no idea, Turning back from a life of sin is needed.

This world will pass, the judgment day will come, Hey~ Favzi, how are you going to give an answer? Peter and Paul are laying in Ferengistan (France) We are going, the rick is needed (or crying is needed? ) (Recited by Father Moushegh Seropian)

Priest Der Margos A. Arapgirtsi was also a troubadour from this region, about whom we have almost no information. It is only known that such a priest existed [75]. Kor Kevo, Keoroghlou, Hadji Kerem Arenderian, Gornag and others were also troubadours who lived in the area during the 19th and the 20th century. [76]

Even though he does not belong to the ranks of troubadours, the name Mgrdich Der- Bedrosian is worth mentioning. He was knows in Arapgir as a musician and a teacher. He was born around the 1870-s in the village Dzag. Presumably, he received his primary education at the local St. Nshan school and then in Arapgir, later he completed his education at the St. Hagop seminary in Jerusalem where he was ordained a deacon. He has founded a hundred member, male and female choir performing four part harmonies. He had a beautiful velvety voice [77]. Mgrdich Der- Bedrosian is the author of the words to the song “Hovouyerk”. As a sign of respect to the Vartabed, A. Mesouments wrote the music to his words in the 1930-s [78].

It needs to be said that a large part of the humble collection of songs that have reached us were transcribed and arranged by Avedis Mesouments. It is also thanks to his dedicated work that today the music of Arapgir is available to the future generations.

Editorial note

We have included various music scores and audible materials in our article dedicated to the songs of Arapgir. Tzovinar Artzrouni has transcribed the music from its original sources and has prepared the audible song content.